


Back to you

by Lidya_Wayne



Category: Miss Sherlock
Genre: Angst, Episode 8 Spoilers, F/F, I'm horrible at tagging so I'm just gonna stop now, I'm still in denial that happened, Slash, ambiguous ending, inner dialouge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-23 22:37:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14942675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lidya_Wayne/pseuds/Lidya_Wayne
Summary: It's not real.It's not real.Wato screams in agony, in desperation, hands clutching Inspector Reimon tight, tears streaming down her face.There are so many words left unsaid, so many mysteries yet unsolved, and so many things unexplained between them. Sherlock can't just leave her like this. Wato won't let her go.It's not real.





	Back to you

It's not real.

 

It's not real.

 

Wato screams in agony, in desperation, hands clutching Inspector Reimon tight, tears streaming down her face.

 

There are so many words left unsaid, so many mysteries yet unsolved, and so many things unexplained between them. Sherlock can't just leave her like this. Wato won't let her go.

 

It's not real.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Wato stares unblinkingly at the walls in their apartment. This, whatever she had with Sherlock, it was not enough. For all she knows, it may never be enough.

 

She barely noticed when Mrs.Hatano walked in. Looking at the pitiful look in her eyes, Wato absentmindedly thinks, she should be the one hurting. Sherlock was like a daughter to her. To Sherlock, of all the people in her life, Wato was the one who got the least time with her.

 

And yet...You're my friend. You're my first friend.

 

It's not fair, Wato thinks. You can't just waltz into my life, flip my world upside down, and leave me here all by myself; expecting me to go about, to continue my life in a world without you in it. 

 

It's not fair.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As she's putting the rose down on the rooftop, Wato can hear her guts wrenching, her heart screaming, her brain urging her to say something. To scream, to cry, to blame Sherlock for leaving her.

 

Instead, a tear falls down her cheeks, glistening on one of the dark red petals of the rose.

 

Emotions. Sherlock was never one for emotions. They disturbed her logical reasoning and all that. Wato had thought of Sherlock as a case-solving machine, unable to feel love and appreciate companionship.

 

And once again, Sherlock had proven her wrong. By jumping off a rooftop to snap her out of Irikawa's control.

 

Wato has to bite her lip bloody from crying out loud, and hurries down the stairs with her stomach still tied in knots.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wato hugs the green coat close to her chest, planting a teary kiss on it.

 

They've been through so much, and this is all she has left of Sherlock now. A blood-stained coat Sherlock threw her way the day they became acquaintances.

 

Wato holds the coat closer, and brings it to her face. Taking a deep breath, she wonders if she could save any of Sherlock's scent in here, all for herself. So she'd always have Sherlock with her, wherever she goes.

 

She has never felt this way about anyone before. It's intense at first, rushing in her soul like waves splashing against rocks in a middle of a storm. And then it slowly, but surely, turns into something sweeter, softer. Something that tastes like strawberries and dark chocolate. Something that smells like wine and cigarettes. Something that feels like the thorns on a rose. It's intoxicating and irresistible and sometimes even hurtful, but at the same time, it's slow and reassuring. It's strange like Sherlock herself, and Wato desperately craves for another taste of it.

 

Another taste of Sherlock.

 

So she holds onto the coat tighter, as if her life depended on it ; trying to inhale everything that is left of Sherlock, trying to bury herself into this warm, familiar fragrance , and never let go again.

 

She looks to her right, her eyes blurred, and Sherlock is right there, as large as life, all sharp angles and snarky remarks, still in that ridiculously oversized coat. Her hair is soft, black strands falling back onto her face, her eyes shining with that childlike excitement whenever she gets a new case. She's smirking at Wato , signature Sherlock style, and her mouth is half-opened, as if she's about to make a witty insult at Wato for crying.

 

Wato blinks again, and Sherlock's gone.

 

"I love you"

 

The words escape her mouth in a tiny whisper, quickly blown away by the cold wind of Tokyo.

 

The words that Sherlock will never get to hear.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sherlock stands from afar, looking at Wato walking away, her head hung low, the green coat clutched tight in her arm.

 

"I'll come back to you one day, Wato."

 

"I swear on my life."

**Author's Note:**

> So...yeah. This is the result of a sleepless night and that gosh darn season finale. I don't like to refer to myself as an emotional person, but I don't think I've ever cried that much over a death of a fictional character. 
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading this! I hope you aren't let down because of how bad and sloppily written this thing is, but since this is my first work ever and English isn't my first language...please make some allowances for me? Constructive criticism is highly appreciated!


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